All Ends
by silverbranches
Summary: He had waited 300 years for this exact moment, for the crocodile to be powerless and weak. But somehow, he finds himself sharing drinks and swapping tales with the man he was supposed to kill. Somewhat AU, set during The Queen is Dead.


**A/N: This idea came during the trailer for The Queen is Dead, so that episode is being ignored in this fic. I know the characters are a bit OOC, so I'm sorry!**

**Disclaimer: ABC owns Once, not me.**

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"_Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. For even the very wise cannot see all ends." –J.R.R. Tolkein_

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Rumpelstiltskin leaned against the gate that led to the apartments above. He couldn't bear to spend any more time up there, with Bae and Henry looking so much like the family he couldn't have. He closed his eyes wearily, and kept them closed even when the door swung open. Shifting to the side, he left enough room for the person to slip by into the apartments.

"Hello crocodile."

Gold opened his eyes, seeing Hook standing before him. Perfect. Not only did he have to deal with his family dreams being crushed to pieces, but now Hook was here, probably to exact his revenge.

Gold let his head fall back against the bars. "If you're going to kill me, I would prefer you did it quickly."

Hook paused in striding forward, his hook falling limply to his side. He had been prepared to deal with a violent crocodile, an angry crocodile, but not a _defeated_ crocodile.

"What?"

Rumpelstiltskin limped over to the bench beneath the mailboxes and slumped onto it. "You've won, Hook," he said. "You were one who won Milah's heart, and you won in taking away everything in Storybrooke that meant anything to me. Now my own _son_ can't even bear to _talk _to me, and I have absolutely nothing left."

"Your son?" Hook asked. "Your son is here?" He remembered the little boy in the tavern with brown hair and curious eyes. He remembered Milah talking about how sweet and intelligent he was. While she had no regrets about leaving her coward of a husband behind, Bae was an entirely different matter.

Rumpel nodded in silent agreement. "He hates me. Talks about how I'd _abandoned_ him, like he was the only one who's ever been abandoned, or that he hadn't done the exact same thing to Emma."

"He's the one who broke Swan's heart?" If Rumpel hadn't been drowning in his own misery, he would have noticed the shift in his tone, one that went beyond polite interest.

"Aye. Yet he ignores that so he can go on and on about how I left him alone in this world. He doesn't even care that I've given up so much for him. I crippled my leg, I got branded as a coward, and I gave up any chance I had at being better than my father. I even kissed Hordor's boots, and for what? For him!" He sighed deeply, and whatever energy he had left him. "Three hundred years of planning, of manipulation and waiting, and it's all worthless. _That's _why you get to kill me, Hook. At least one of us should succeed in what we wanted to do."

Hook paused – he _paused_, and it took him a second to understand why. It was because he had expected more of a challenge to his revenge, more than a crocodile that _wanted_ to die. Killing somebody wasn't as fun if they were asking for it.

That was why instead of putting his hook through Rumpelstiltskin's heart, he handed him a flask of rum. The crocodile accepted it and took one long swig, which Hook had to admire him for. It was pirate moonshine after all, and not for the weak. The two sat in silence for a while, and Hook wrestled with whether or not to say something.

"Milah used to always worry about what Baelfire would think of her leaving." Hook spoke hesitantly, unsure if the mention of Milah would spark off an unpleasant reaction. When Rumpelstiltskin said nothing, he continued. "I used to tell her that he may be angry at first – after all, who wouldn't be? – but she was still his mother, and deep down, he still loved her. The same goes for you. He hates you now, and he'll probably hate you for a while. Believe me, I do take a certain amount of pleasure from that, but sooner or later, he's going to forgive you."

Hook knew he sounded emotional and sappy and nothing like the reputation he had made for himself, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. They sat quietly, Rumpelstiltskin sometimes taking long drinks from the flask.

There was a clang, and an elderly lady walked past them with her dog. She stared strangely at them, the old man with a bulky shawl and the younger man wearing leather and a hook. She didn't say anything, used to the types of people who lived in New York, but Hook realized that he had better leave, before the precious Savior came down to check on the crocodile.

"Well, crocodile, as fun as it's been, I'd rather leave before your family comes down. I'm not quite sure what the Savior will do if she sees me, but I'm sure it won't be pretty." He collected his flask and made sure his hook was well hidden before making his way to the doors.

Rumpelstiltskin found his voice. "You're letting me live?" He seemed so confused, such a far cry from the crocodile who had killed Milah and more like the cowardly spinner who refused to fight for his wife. Maybe that was why he let Rumpelstiltskin live – because his vendetta was against the crocodile, not the spinner.

Besides, it would be much more fun to kill him while making his son watch.

"Not today," said Hook, and he walked out the building and back to the open seas.


End file.
